


Where the Cherry Blossom Falls

by MissBJinx



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Conversations, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Post S19 E37, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 18:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11258196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBJinx/pseuds/MissBJinx
Summary: *Spoiler-alert* for those who haven't yet seen S19 E37Afterlife AU written as a response to the events of S19 E37 'For You May Be The Next to Die...'After being fatally stabbed, Jasmine Burrows awakes in what appears to be the hospital on-call room at Holby General and is helped by some fellow inhabitants to adjust to her new surroundings.





	Where the Cherry Blossom Falls

**Author's Note:**

> *hides behind cushion and peeps out nervously* 
> 
> I'm a little anxious about posting this oneshot as I've never really written anything like it before...I wrote this after S19 E37 aired this evening. All of the main characters in this fic are still dead as in canon, but I'd like to hope that this gives a chance for some conversations which would be otherwise impossible to realise in canon on-screen and to explore some of the themes raised in a little more detail for the three young characters that Holby have killed off in the past year. Above all, I wanted to provide a little shred of optimism for a future resolution for Jasmine and Jac as well.
> 
> Please, do let me know what you think. As I say, I've never really written in this style/AU before, so would welcome any constructive comments or feedback :) 
> 
>  
> 
> Just a little potential trigger warning as well re: discussion of death and afterlife.

Chaos.

Pain.

Blood, so much blood.

The frantic struggles of a fraught trauma team battling fruitlessly to save their fallen colleague.

A rallying cry to the troops; to push on no matter what. To try to make the nearly impossible possible once more.

Six hours of frantic labour; all best efforts of the unparalleled surgical prowess amassed within the theatre steadfastly denied by a solid tone from the clustered machines. All signs of life flat-lining as the young doctor slowly slipped away into the abyss.

* * *

A bright white light spread softly across the prone young woman’s eyes. All pain, all regret absolved. All injuries healed.

A fresh, blank canvas.

A halo of tousled blonde hair framed Jasmine Burrows’ peacefully sleeping face as the young woman rolled onto her side and slowly opened her confused eyes to the familiar sight of Holby General’s on-call room. Accurate down to the discarded packet of digestive biscuits and half-drunk mugs of tea which sat abandoned on the draining board.

“What the–” she pushed herself groggily into a sitting position, hugging the soft chequered duvet around her as she tried to take in her new surroundings.

_But I’m dead._

The first acknowledgement of her death brought a burning lump to her throat. The memory of Jac’s frantic reassurances that she would be the one to save her.

Her big sister.

_Why I am I here?_

A trembling hand reached out towards the cream-painted wall and was perturbed to find that she could easily reach through the brickwork, beyond the wall into a chilly breeze which tickled her exploring digits. The small puncture hole in the wall momentarily revealed an eternal darkness which stretched far beyond the dimly-lit room before it slowly shrank back into a magnolia façade.

_What is this place?_

“You’re here!” a surprised greeting came from the doorway. Jasmine’s head whipped around, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest as she drew the flimsy linen cloak closer around her. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon,”

Jasmine’s response was to hide her face in the blanket, inhaling a familiar hospital scent of sterilising alcohol gel as she tried to calm her reeling senses.

“Jasmine,” a slight dip in the mattress as her new companion sat down and extended slender arms in gentle embrace.

“It’s ok. I promise…” A slender brunette, fashionably dressed in a maroon blouse and black skinny jeans whom Jasmine had last seen sprawled unconscious and unresponsive upon the floor of the ladies’ bathroom. A pair of dark liquid eyes–so reminiscent of her mother’s–regarded her concernedly.

“It’s a lot to take in when you first arrive, I know. But it gets easier.”

“Ellie?” Jasmine could feel herself trembling in shock as Elinor Campbell continued to gently rub her back in slow circles. “W-what’s going on?”

“It’s not all bad, I promise.” The familiar young woman continued to reassure her; words of wisdom from another soul taken well before her natural time.

“My Gran and Grandad were waiting for me when I arrived. So many questions between them…” she broke off briefly before continuing. “Only, I’m sure it looked like a nineteen fifties dancehall in here then? I forget. But I’m sure there was jiving involved!” She smiled softly as she looked around the familiar environment of Holby’s finest medical establishment.

“The decor changes quite regularly around here.” She added somewhat matter-of-factly, gesturing downward with a bony hand as blades of grass began to grow upwards through the polished linoleum floor, the tiled ceiling slowly vanishing to reveal fluffy cumulous clouds trailing lazily across a summer’s sky. Birdsong began to filter into the background of Jasmine’s hearing.

“A-am I?” Jasmine stammered slightly. She couldn’t quite bring herself to articulate the question, although of course she already knew the answer. It was as if speaking it aloud would finally incarcerate her in the strange new world; permanently cemented in acknowledgment of the fact. A change in status from mere visitor to permanent inhabitant.

_But it feels so real._

She felt a soft sob escape from her. Expected to feel tears seeping down her face, but was confronted with dry cheeks when a cautious hand rose to inspect her skin.

No tears. No pain.

“You’re here now.” Elinor added simply. “Safe, and at peace with the world.” She reached forward and gently squeezed Jasmine’s hand with her own. “And beyond that, we cannot ask for any more.”

All of the anguish soothed away in a comforting balm as the echoing of the frantic barking of orders and bleeping from a multitude of apparatus which rang softly in her ears finally faded to mute.

“Safe...” Jasmine repeated as she felt warm rays of sunshine trail across her face upon the parting of the celestial clouds.

A comfortable silence hung between the two young women as they sat holding hands. A mutual rock for each other.

“How’s my mum doing?” a soft question came from her right, almost fearful in its tentative phrasing. Elinor’s gaze finally met her eyes directly. “Is she alright?”

Jasmine thought back upon the months of gruelling stress, the endless nights which had bled unnoticed into day as she studied and worked and drained non-existent reserves in order to impress her self-appointed mentor.

The lioness of AAU.

The intimidating consultant who had driven her, pushed her to become the very best that she could be in order that any chance of the same miniscule mistake being made again would be eliminated.

The heartbroken mother who had tried to reach out through the only channel that her insurmountable grief would allow her to; through her work.

The resilient woman who, despite the heartache, had last been seen defiantly smoking and swilling Shiraz on the rooftop of the hospital.  Safely snuggled in a blanket cocoon with her Bernie; finally, ready to begin to take the next step forward in her difficult journey towards acceptance.

A regretful Serena who had reached out, apologised and made her peace with her favourite young protégé; whose parting advice to her had been to go out and live her life to the full.

“Serena? She’s being brave, like she always is.” Jasmine settled upon a reassuring smile as she replied to Ellie. “She misses you so much… all of the lost opportunities… all of the things that she never got to say to you. And I think she’ll always carry that with her.”

She paused, a fond smile playing around her lips. “But right now, she’s safe too. She’s on a sabbatical in the South of France, living on a tiny little vineyard up in the hillside which apparently has appalling Wi-Fi coverage… well, at least according to Bernie whenever she tries to Skype her, which is most evenings. She’s finding a way to move forward, one day at least. So is Jason- he’s moved back in with Alan, but he’s back at work now. Still keeping everyone on their toes…”

“Slow internet connection is the easiest way to unearth my mother’s not-so-hidden dark side…” Elinor chuckled wryly, rightly fearful for the lives of the elderly Frenchman and his wife who had let the small cottage to one of England’s foremost vascular surgeons. “That and the possibility of a national Shiraz shortage…”

Her laughter faded to relief.

“I’m glad that Jason is alright. I mean, I did run my poor cousin over…”

She paused thoughtfully, almost unsure about continuing. “I sometimes think, ‘what if’ about so many things… especially if I’d let you examine me properly after the crash, if I’d been honest about the drugs…” She broke off and shrugged. “A null point, I suppose now. But I’m glad that Mum and I got a chance to talk, even if it was only a little bit… I got to clear the air, let her know that I wanted to try to make things work, to support her and Bernie… before, before I–” she cleared her throat nervously, suddenly devoid of words. “Well, _you know_ what happened.”

“She gave me your badge, you know.” Jasmine swung her legs idly from now what appeared to be a park bench as the panorama finished its transformation. The aromatic scene of blossom hung in the air as a cherry tree pushed its way through the loamy earth beside her to complete the scene.

“Did she now?” Elinor smiled knowingly. “In dreams we fly? I still remember that motto even now. One of my proudest moments was becoming Head Girl…” she leant forward and whispered comparatively from behind her hand. “More opportunities to boss people around and all that…”

“Oh, what?” she smirked playfully at Jasmine’s surprised face, “I learnt my bossiness from the best! In all seriousness though, I’m glad she gave it to you.” She added with a gentle pat to Jasmine’s hand.

“So, where are we now?” Jasmine murmured in wonder as she looked up, brushing a multitude of little pink petals from her loose blonde hair as a soft breeze rippled through the spreading canopy of branches. A sudden gust saw a pastel shower of confetti fall upon the occupants of the oak bench.

“It looks an awful lot like the park I used to visit with Mum when I was little,” Elinor peered around curiously.

“And who is? –” Jasmine’s last question was cut short as Elinor stood and called across the broad expanse of parkland to an approaching figure.

“Late as ever, Digby!” Elinor tutted fondly and raised an incredulous eyebrow in a manner scarily reminiscent of her mother as she waved at the bespectacled young man who eventually arrived seated himself next to her upon the bench. “I wondered where you had got to. Had you forgotten it was today?!”

“Not much call for timekeeping in the afterlife really though, is there?” her companion shot back with a grin. “Nice view today, I got caught up in a thunderstorm here this time last week.” He turned to the new arrival, with a smile that she had only previously seen gracing the multitude of photos which covered the flat which she shared with Morven.

“Hullo, Jasmine.” Arthur Digby smiled gently, “I’ve been wanting to say thank you to you for ages, for always being there for Morven, for being her very best friend. Elinor has told me little bits and pieces about you, but I’m so glad to have met you in person as it were.”

Morven. Jasmine’s heart sank as she thought of her exuberant best friend, with whom so many wonderful evenings had been spent. Young, carefree, living life to the full- whether it be curled up eating pizza together in front of a delightfully terrible reality television show, or coming home at an ungodly hour from a drunken night out, laden with mysterious items of tropical fruit.

“She’s a fighter…” Arthur slipped a reassuring arm over her shoulder, seemingly omniscient as he sensed her fears. “No matter how hard things get; Morven will find a way to keep going. My wife is rather amazing like that.” He smiled proudly. “Our time will come; one day we’ll be reunited.”

The trio chattered idly as they sat beneath the spreading canopy of the tree; Elinor and Arthur appearing to have struck up a firm friendship in their shared solitude.

_So… this is it then?_ Jasmine pondered silently as she rested her head back against the bench and allowed the soft breeze to tickle the nape of her neck. Summer sunshine dappled across her face as she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of cherry blossom, comfortably aware of the protective warmth of the two bodies which sat either side of her.

One day, she would see her sister again. She would have the chance to make things right, to say all of the things to her that life had cruelly denied her.

Comforted by the thought, she nestled back contentedly in the sunshine and listened to the lilting strains of birdsong.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
